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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141715">I Bet on Losing Dogs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/goatsoda/pseuds/goatsoda'>goatsoda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Cold, Dark, Ravine [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Feels, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Family Angst, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, No Romance, Sad Ending, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Stimming, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade are Siblings, angst in later chapters, no beta we die like wilbur, oh god so much angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:02:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141715</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/goatsoda/pseuds/goatsoda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Wilbur looked at the scene with melancholy. Were things ever normal? Or was he just seeing things from the rose-tinted perspective of youth?</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Phil Watson &amp; Wilbur Soot, Technoblade &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Cold, Dark, Ravine [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139018</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Shower</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Phil brushed through Techno's hair slowly. It reached down to his shoulders now, thick strands of dark brown always falling in his face. His father carefully weaved the mane into a braid, tieing it out of the way. Wilbur looked at his brother's hair, then back to his own. His was messy and unkempt, short and fluffy. Other than the color, they were polar opposites in terms of hair. 

Techno and Wilbur were opposites in a lot of ways, now that he thought about it. Wilbur preferred to use words in conflict, while Techno was biased towards violence. Wilbur wanted to travel the world, and loved learning about geography and language, whereas Techno would've rather stayed in one place 
forever. They did have one common interest, though: Writing stories. Wilbur liked to write about nations and wars, and Techno wrote about great heroes, like in mythology. 
</p>
<hr/><p>Techno motioned towards the wooden desk littered with haircare supplies. "Can you make sure Phil doesn't catch me doing this?" Wilbur nodded, sitting against the door and listening for footsteps. Techno applied the slimy bleach, cringing at the texture. Wilbur snickered, "It looks like-" Techno shot him a glare, silencing him. </p><p>"Why do you want to dye it, anyways?" Wilbur asked, slumping against the hard wood. "I dunno, maybe because it looks cool? Or I just wanna differentiate myself from you and dad." Wilbur wore a faux-offened expression, scoffing sarcastically, "Why don't you wanna associate with your dearest brother? Uh, but yeah, I could see wanting to distance yourself from the family. We've kind of become a shitstorm over the years." He let out a sigh.</p><p>Techno refused to respond, instead slipping into the bathroom and washing the bleach out in the sink. "Won't that stain the sink?" Wilbur questioned. "Won't you just shut up and make sure Dad doesn't catch us?" He retorted.</p><p>It was another 30 minutes of Techno waiting for the dye to set when Phil got home. Wilbur was rambling about random things while sitting in the bathtub, so he didn't hear him come in. The realization only came upon them when he called out "Willburrr? Technoo? Where are you guys?"</p><p>
  <i>'Shit.'<i> they both thought. Neither had time to say anything before the bathroom door swung open and Phil saw their mess. Instead of screaming at them or hitting them or breaking things, he just let out an impressed "Huh."</i></i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Thiswasn'tmyideapleasedontbemadididn'tdoanythingpleasepleaseplease-" Wilbur panicked, slurring his words together. Phil shook his head slowly "I don't care, just clean up after yourself" He nodded at the sink, and Techno.

</i></i></p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Wilbur was visibly shaking, his breath hitching after Phil left. "He didn't even yell at you, why are you so nervous?" Techno asked, tieing his hair back to keep the pastel pink from bleeding into anything. Wilbur dug his nails into his thighs, refusing to look at his brother. "It's not fucking fair!" He broke into a wail. "I-If I did something like this he'd get so m-mad at me-" He could barely speak through his frustrated sobs.<i></i></i></i></p><p>
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</p><p>Techno wiped off his hands, and awkwardly climbed into the tub, looking at Wilbur. Wilbur just looked down at the brown-tinted, grimy bathtub, avoiding Techno's gaze. "Stop staring at me" He murmured. "I have to wash out the dye" Techno responded, monotone. "Unless you want to get drenched you should probably get out." </p><p>Wilbur slowly walked back into their room, hiding under the covers and continuing to wallow in his frustration. Phil came in after a few minutes, grimacing. "Why are you crying?" He questioned dryly, "Nevermind, just keep it down. I'm trying to read" Phil left as soon as he came, his wings trailing behind him.</p><p>Wilbur could hear the shower running in the other room. The noise was overwhelming- he couldn't bear the sound of his own sobs. He covered his ears, almost drawing blood from how tensely his nails clawed into his neck. After what felt like an eternity, the noise dimmed, and Techno came into their room.. He didn't say anything, just calmly sat down on the bed next to where Wilbur laid curled up. Techno awkwardly put his arms around his brother. It wasn't the first time he had to comfort him like this, and it wouldn't be the last. </p>
<hr/>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Escapism</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wilbur stretched, his lungs expanding and filling with the still dawn air. The sunrise kissed his cheeks as he opened the faux-silk curtains, taking in the morning. He noticed his brother wasn't in his bed, he must've already woke up.</p><p>The floorboards creaked and whined as Wilbur tiptoed into the living room, spotting Techno reading a book. "What are you reading?" Wilbur inquired, leaning against the ragged armchair. "Hippolytus, by Euripides" He responded, pushing up his glasses slightly. Wilbur peeked over the top, his mess of hair falling in his eyes, preventing him from reading along.  </p><p>"Where's dad?" Wilbur sat down by the fireplace on an old pillow, picking at the seams. "I... don't know. He just said he was gonna leave to go find something. Didn't say when he'd be back."  </p><p>There was an eerie moment of silence. It was the silence that made Wilbur overthink. "Did I do something wrong? Is that why he left? Is he mad at me again?"</p><p>The quietness was broken by the thud of Techno closing his book, and softly setting his glasses on the wooden table next to the chair.  It knocked Wilbur out of his trance, "Oh- Techno?" Wilbur asked, looking at his brother. "Yeah?" He responded as he set the book away. "You said that the next time Phil leaves for a while, you'd show me how to use the crossbow... so... can we go hunting?" Techno paused for a second, letting out a sigh, reluctantly nodding without looking back. "Fine. A promise is a promise." He gestured towards the basement.</p><p>The younger brother followed him into the unfinished room, clearing his throat from the dust and cobwebs shaken loose from their footsteps. The temperature dropped, sending slight chills down Wilbur's spine, and goosebumps popping up on his arms. "It's cold. I'm so cold" Wilbur mumbled, looking around. Techno prodded around a chest, pulling out a few weapons, including 2 crossbows with various symbols carved into the handles. "I'll be using Phil's bow, and you can use mine. They're a little big, but maybe sometime you'll be able to carve your own that fits better." He slung the artillery over his shoulder, hauling himself up the stairs and out the mahogany front door. Wilbur trailed behind, wobbling, trying not to drop the heavy crossbow.</p><p>It was warmer than usual in the snowy biome. The permafrost was visible, and the snow had lightened up, which meant there were caribou and rabbits wandering around occasionally.  "Perfect weather for practice." Techno nodded, his newly-pink hair blowing in the breeze. He hiked over to a decrepit, fenced in area. The wood was rotting, and there were woodlice crawling on what seemed to be targets- at one point. The paint had faded, and they seemed to be little more than slightly off-color wood stumps with arrow scars.</p><p>"It hasn't been used in a while. Back when... things felt normal... Phil would take me here and show me how to train." Wilbur looked at the scene with melancholy. Were things ever normal? Or was he just seeing things from the rose-tinted perspective of youth?</p><p>"But- It'll work, It's fine." Techno assured his brother. He modeled how you should hold the bow. "You put your right arm in front. Left hand on the trigger." Wilbur mirrored his position clumsily. "Look down the flight groove, this top part." Techno stroked the top of the weapon.</p><p>"Now... aim, and pull the trigger!" Wilbur's arrow let out a whistle, before landing a few inches between the center and the bottom right of the stump. It felt as if weight was lifted off of his chest. He actually fired it! And without shooting anyone's eye out! His brother looked at the target with a slight smile of satisfaction not often gracing his features. "You're aim still needs some work, but that's what the rockets are for. Go ahead and do that a couple more times, I'm going to go look for something quickly."</p><p>Wilbur felt that same familiar fear of abandonment creeping up inside him, even if Techno was just going around the back of the house. Despite this mild panic ringing in his ear, he ignored it and tried to focus on the wood again.</p><p>He repeated the steps his brother taught him, setting his hands in the right position. Wilbur's calluses brushed against the rough wood, making him recoil. He made a mental note to sand and finish this one sometime. Refocusing on the target, Wilbur carefully pulled the trigger, the arrow landing slightly closer to the center than his last. With a content smile, he continued aiming the arrows until Techno came back.</p><p>In the time Techno had been gone, Wilbur had shot 5 or so arrows at the wood. "Not terrible," Techno commented, making his way back to the site. "You're actually back!" Wilbur exclaimed. "Uh, yeah I'm back? Why wouldn't I be?"  He stared at his brother for a moment, confused, then continued on. "Anyways, theres another thing I want you to do. Follow me." </p><p>As they reached the structure Techno had been working on before, the faint neigh of a caribou was heard. "You made a caribou pen?" Wilbur questioned, going up to pet the animal. "You could say. I would better describe it as moving target practice." The younger brother was taken aback. "Tar-Target practice?" he stuttered. "Well, yeah? If you're gonna be using a crossbow you'll be killing animals... or people." He mumbled the last part under his breath. "Go ahead, stand back and shoot it. We need more meat anyways, just thought i'd kill two birds with one stone. Or, i suppose, one caribou with one crossbow." </p><p>Wilbur looked back at techno, with panic in his eyes. "B-But I don't want to kill it!" He shouted, trying to hold back tears. "Just. Imagine it as a target." Techno manhandled Wilbur's arms until they were on the crossbow correctly. "Shoot!" Techno yelled in his ear, his temper dwindling. The loud sound made Wilbur flinch, and accidentally pull the trigger, shooting the animal right in the neck. </p><p>"Good job!" Techno smiled, looking at the bleeding caribou proudly. "No, no, no no no no no-" Wilbur rushed over to it, hyperventilating. The blood pooled onto his hands as he tried to stop the bleeding. He was shaking so much he could barely stand, and it felt like he was going to vomit. "What the FUCK Techno?!" he screamed, tears streaming down his face. He collapsed onto the permafrost, still sobbing. "Go! Go away! You're a fucking monster! W-Why did I do this..." He blubbered. Techno tried to take out his sword and finish the animal off, but Wilbur grabbed his leg and dug his nails into it, trying to stop him. The older brother shook him off with ease, his hoof hitting him in the chin. It made Wilbur bite his tongue, blood filling his mouth. </p><p>It was all so overwhelming, Wilbur just wanted to run as far away from it as possible. And so he did. He got up on his shaking legs, and sprinted into the trees, ignoring his surroundings and just <i> escaping. </i> Escaping his murderer of a brother. Escaping his dad who probably hated him. Escaping the pain he caused the innocent caribou.  </p><p>
  <i>Escaping.</i>
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